Deputy Rush
by Shellecah
Summary: He's no Matt Dillon. Chapters 1 and 2 are told from the deputy's first-person present tense point of view, and Chapter 3 the omniscient past tense POV.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Rush Acton, assigned to Dodge City. Dillon wants me out of town. "Too bad, Matt," I say. "I'll leave when _I'm_ ready, _not_ before. You want me out cuz _you_ ain't hired me; I ain't one of your pets."

"I don't waste time with men like you, Acton," says Matt. "I'm not playing your games." He turns his back to walk out on me. He does that little trick to show how much better he is than me.

"You blamed lawdog," I say to the back of Dillon's head. His dander's up from the look of him. "I have an honorable record with the Service," I say. "I stepped off the train friendly-like, civil to you first greeting. I'm good with my fists, a fast draw, and not too hard on the lawbreakers. You should appreciate that, bein' soft yourself. And I write up a good report, too. But no. You look at me like I'm dung stuck to your boot. You won't even call me by my first name."

"I'll call you Rush," says Matt. "You don't do chores. And other things you get paid for. Things you should think of without me askin' ."

"You're hard on me on account of you ain't _chose_ me," I say. "You have to goad Chester to get him choring, and he thinks of almost nothing on his own. You gotta tell him what to do most every time."

I glance at Chester. He sits on the bed in the marshal's office, looking not the least riled and staring curiously at me. He watches like that whenever I quarrel at Dillon.

"This isn't about Chester," says Matt.

"Well, what of yourself then, you think you're the high and mighty marshal," I say. "You laze around sleeping at your desk, and set on your backside outside there doin' nothin'."

"I'm through bickering with you, Rush," Matt calmly says. "I've got other things to do." He leaves the office.

"What do you think of all this," I say to Chester.

"I don't cotton to chores, neither," says Chester. "Wisht we had a feller what likes tidyin' up." He yawns, stretching his arms. "I gotta sleep some," he mumbles. "I'm wore down."

"Wore down from what?" I say. "You just watched."

"Watchin' tires a body near the same if I was doin' it," he says, and flops down. He falls asleep faster than anyone I know.

I head to the Long Branch for a beer. Most folks I pass won't look at me, as Dillon set the lead for them to follow.

I heard tell of how a judge at the courthouse here acquitted a murderer on account of no witnesses. The man was a speculator who ruined some folks. He refused to leave town before he sold his profits, so Dodge City sent him to Coventry. He eventually gave up on selling the farms he'd cheated people out of and left town. He was found crushed to death under a tree branch.

Although the killer got what was coming to him, Dodge wallowed with him in the dung heap, and a lot of their hides still stink. I'm no murderer like that fellow, yet they shun me like I am a rotting carcass. They say folks went silent when this man stepped into a room, so he couldn't hear the sound of voices.

I'm as good a man as Matt Dillon, and if this blasted town tries sending me to Coventry, I will roar in their faces. They _will_ see me, and talk when I'm in the room, if just to one another. And if Dillon roughs me up like he did that killer, I'll fight and hound him into talking to me. They'll never run me out until I _decide_ to go.

At the batwings now, I feel mad hot like fever yet don't show it. Miss Kitty turns away when she sees me. She has coarse taste if she dislikes my face, as I'm a handsome man, with dark eyes and hair curling and fine brown color, an inch or two taller than most men and built strong. She takes to men even more growed up than me, except for Doc, who by the way looks at me like I've no right to wear a badge. Miss Kitty keeps company with Dillon and Chester, both taller than me, though Chester has a puny thin frame compared to mine.

Miss Kitty and Matt, Chester and Doc are a set, and all save Chester regard me as fodder. While watching his friends cut the new deputy out entertains him, I get the impression he means me no harm. Their un-neighborliness to me seems to puzzle Chester, and he gawks at my plight, too somnolent to care what becomes of me. Otherwise a kindly sort, had he the spirit to defend me, he'd not know how to begin.

I've no desire to court or befriend Kitty, lovely as she is. She chooses which men to oblige on snap judgment, and looks down her nose at the rest of us. Saloons roundabout Kansas know her past, and the gals here say Dillon visits her room regular, so she has nerve playing the lady.

"I'll have a beer, Sam," I say. Sam never greets me or asks "What'll it be." He acts like I'm not there until I speak. If he ever ignores me to the point of refusing to serve me, I'll draw my own beer or pour my own whiskey, and if he tries to stop me, I'll smash some bottles whether Dillon's here or not. I'll throw whiskey in Matt's eyes to slow him down, and smash more bottles.

I drink my beer, and feel I need a woman. I look at the gals to pick one out. Miss Kitty eyes me in shrewd disapproval. I'm too low to merit courtesy, yet she can't mind her business when it comes to me.

I choose a smiling gal called Frannie with a womanly form. I buy her a beer and we talk a short spell, then I hug her close whispering in her ear beneath her thick unruly hair, and she titters as we start for the stairs to the rooms above.

"Frannie," says Miss Kitty. "I need you down here during working hours. We don't have enough girls on the floor today as it is."

"Up yonder's the brothel, right, Miss Kitty?" I loudly say. The men and gals laugh. Frannie wiggles with laughter, her large bosom bouncing against my arm.

"Not today it isn't," says Kitty. "It's closed 'til later tonight."

"Unless Matt wants to take you up there?" I say. The Long Branch fills with noisy laughter.

"I own the place," says Kitty. "I'll go up there with whoever I want, whenever I want to."

"We all know you will, honey," a man hollers. More laughter.

I move near Kitty, my arm around Frannie. "See here, Miss Kitty," I say. "I'll pay for the room while Frannie shows me a good time. Two hours."

"Two hours?" says Kitty.

"I need a nap after," I say. " 'Specially with Frannie." I pat her round bottom and she jumps, squealing.

Kitty grins a little. "Well . . . alright," she says. "I don't charge for room visits. Go ahead and have a good time."

"Why, thank you, Miss Kitty." I smile wide. "That's the first neighborly thing you done for me since I come to Dodge."

"Don't get your hopes up," she says. "It might be the last."

"I'm fond of you, too, ma'am," I say, moving off with Frannie.

When I come down the stairs with Frannie two hours later, Dillon and Kitty are sitting at a table, and watch me descend as though waiting for me.

"Rush, where were you," says Matt.

"Don't bedevil me, Matt," I say. "You know where I was, cuz Miss Kitty told you soon as you come in. It ain't like you to be coy. And don't act like you needed me for anything. Far as you see it, I'm no deputy, just a stranger bunking at the marshal's office."

Dillon rose, looming over me. I was too riled and righteously indignant to be afraid, and I'm a fierce fighter. I might not beat him, but we'd end it even. "I needed you to take the prisoner to the courthouse and guard him while the judge sentenced him," Matt says. "A lawman has to witness the sentencing. Chester looked for you everywhere.

"I wired a general to arrange a meeting before he had to head out of Fort Dodge," says Matt. "He waited and I never showed, Rush. I had to take the prisoner to court because we couldn't find you to do it."

"So after looking through me like you see nothing since I got to town, you finally decide you need me, and expect me to bow and scrape at your heels," I say. "Well, it don't work that way, Matt. And no call looking like you got the power to give me the boot. The Department give me this appointment, and only they can reassign me. Write as many complaint letters as you want; I got a good record and they'll pay no heed," I say.

"I gave you a chance and you mucked it, Rush," Matt says. "See you, Kitty."

Dillon turns his back on me and heads for the batwings. I want to throw a beer mug at his head. "One of these days, you'll turn your back on me once too often, lawdog," I say.

Matt turns. He looks tired. "Alright," he says. "Get out in the street, Rush. I'm not gonna fight you in here."

"I don't wanna fight you, Matt," I say, feeling guilty. "I want your recognition. If you acknowledge my place as Deputy U.S. Marshal, this town will follow suit. Chester don't treat me like a dirt clod."

"That's Chester's way," says Miss Kitty, her stunning blue eyes warming and her face softening as she regarded me. I think of rose petals opening on account of her red hair. "He won't shut you out unless he thinks you've done something to deserve it. Then he won't give you the time of day."

"You have to earn recognition, Rush," Matt says defensively. "I gave you a chance."

"No, you didn't," I say. "You set that thing up with the prisoner to make me look bad."

"Rush, I had no way of knowing you'd be . . . ." Matt pauses, his eyes shifting to Kitty, "visiting . . . at midday."

"Don't see nothin' wrong in it," I say. "You do it."

Dillon shifts his boots and tugs his hat brim, and Miss Kitty tightens her mouth and lowers her gaze like she's trying not to laugh. Then Matt cups his hand protectively over Kitty's shoulder, his eyes warning me.

Matt hasn't invited me to dine with him and Chester, Doc and Miss Kitty at Delmonico's. I have to eat alone at a separate table, even when it's just Matt and Chester at the restaurant. Times Chester looks at me curious as if wondering why Dillon don't ask me to join them, but Chester doesn't tell me to come sit with them, I suppose on account of Matt pays for their meals. Chester won't do hardly one thing he thinks Dillon don't like.

The sleeping arrangements get me het up, too. Though unlike Chester I can afford a boarding room, I like to salt my dollars away, so I sleep in the jail if a cell is empty. If not, I bed down in my roll on the marshal's office floor. The office bed should go to me as Chester has no ranking, and I tell Dillon so.

"Get a room at Ma Smalley's, Acton, you don't like sleepin' on the floor," says Dillon. "That bed was Chester's long before you came." Chester listens close and quietly as he usually does, and when Matt heads out to his room at Ma's for the night, Chester smirks at me on the floor as he cozies under his blanket.

I sit up. "Matt ain't here," I say. "Look at me that way again and I'll smack you one."

Chester throws back his blanket and sits up scowling. "I ain't looked at you no kinda way," he says. "You commence to hittin' on me and I'll pound your head through the floor. I kin fight you Mr. Dillon's here or not. It's jest an almighty surprise he don't take to you."

"Oh, shut up," I say, and lay down.

"You shut up," says Chester.

"Lay down and git to sleep," I order.

"You don't tell me what to do," he says.

"Why're you still settin' up," I say. "I won't smack you. You'd tell Matt, and he'd bust my hide." Chester lays down and covers up.

"It's not the same with you, anyway, Chester," I say. "You and me's just two fellas quarreling back and forth. You don't act like I'm a night crawler."

"Mr. Dillon don't , neither," Chester sleepily mumbles. "He jest don't take to you. He has his own reasons for takin' to folks or no."

"I don't know how to make him accept me," I say. "Folks hate me on account of him. Don't say you haven't noticed."

Chester yawns. "He likes to do his own hirin'. He don't trust strangers to work for 'im, usual."

"I'm not a stranger anymore," I say. "Why can't he get over that."

"It's ways. To break through," Chester muttered. "Feller like you, you don't try to please. Some shock . . . maybe. Like a gunfight you win. Or fightin' long side 'im."

"I shouldn't have to do none of that for Matt to accept me," I argue.

"He don't mean no harm," says Chester. "You jest come at him hard from the first . . . like as you're your own boss. You don''t try to please none at all. I got to sleep now." He snores.

I invite myself to breakfast with Matt, Chester and Doc. "Mind if I come?" I say.

Doc frowns like I'm a chair in the marshal's office asking him, then shakes his head, tweaking his ear. "I don't mind if Matt don't," he says.

"I don't mind," says Matt.

"Chester?" I say.

"Huh?" says Chester.

"Never mind, let's just go," Doc says. "I'm hungry."

"Why're shaking your head, Doc?" I say, as Matt opens the door.

"My ear has an itch," says Doc.

"Sure it does," I say. "You're shaking your head at me."

Doc glares up at me. "Why in thunder would I shake my head at you," he says, as we walk to Delmonico's.

"If you don't wanna eat with me, why not just say so," I say.

"What's wrong with you," Doc says. "I just said I didn't mind, but I'll _change_ my mind if you don't quit bein' contentious."

"You sure temper easy," I say. "I bet you'd like to spit on my boots."

"Well, I'm thinkin' about it," Doc snaps.

"Leave Doc be," says Chester. "You'll sour his belly off breakfast."

"It ain't your argument, Chester," I say. I know none of them want to eat with me now, but my tongue runs on of itself.

Dillon turns on his heel. "You better find somewhere else to eat, Rush," he says.

"I will not," I say. "I have as much right to eat at Delmonico's as any of you. I'll sit at a table alone like I always do. Even though the waiters won't hardly look me in the eye." I pick up my pace and walk ahead of them.

When two train robbers make off with ten bags of bills and coins at the Dodge station, I recollect what Chester said about fighting alongside Dillon to earn his acceptance. I'm getting my bedroll and saddlebags ready to track the thieves down with Matt, when I see Chester collecting his gear. "Who'll man the marshal's office if the three of us go?" I ask Matt.

"You will," Dillon says. "Chester's goin' with me."

 _"Matt . . . ."_ I whine. I close my mouth tight and look down at my boots in embarrassment, thinking on toughening my voice. I raise my eyes to Dillon's. He looks impatient. I glance at Chester watching me and can tell he has one thing on his mind, following Dillon's orders. Chester's eyes can change from placid to keen in a blink, and as I look at him a lunatic thought runs through my head. If Dillon tells his partner to raise that shotgun he's holding and shoot me through the belly, I wonder if he'd do it.

"Chester don't pack iron," I say. "I can draw and shoot a man before he can pull out that shotgun, and he's no good with his fists. I think faster than he does, too. Move faster."

Chester seems not to take offense. Were he a trained wildcat, he'd pounce on me if Dillon said the word.

"I'm not bickerin' with you, Rush," says Matt. "There's no time."

I calculate what else Chester told me about gaining Dillon's approval. "Some shock," Chester had said. "Like a gunfight you win." I don't like gunplay despite my skill. What I _can_ do now is fight Dillon, and I'm riled enough to do it. Maybe that'll shock 'im.

As he starts to buckle his gunbelt, I snatch it from him and throw it on the floor. Chester startles. Dillon looks at me a moment, then bends down to pick up his belt. I kick it out of reach. Matt hits me, and the room rocks. I stumble around, then punch him a quick left in the gut, and a right to his face.

The blows would floor most men, but he barely reels. Chester backs up near the wall by the desk. Dillon swings at me and I dunk, then pound two more quick ones into his gut. I move in close, raising my arm up and back to hit him with all my strength, and his big fist rams into my jaw.

Pain stabs my neck as my head twists with the blow, my legs go weak and I fall on my side. Dillon leans over me and yanks me up by my vest. Chester hurries over and pulls out a chair from the table, and Matt slams me into it.

He grabs his gunbelt off the floor and buckles it on with jerky, mad motions, while Chester brings a dipper of water and sets it in front of me. "Don't trail us out of town," warns Matt, a little breathless. "You do and I find out, I'll hammer your face in."

I try to take hold of the dipper handle, but my hand shakes and I can't get a purchase. Chester puts the cup to my mouth, holding it until I slurp the last drops. "You need whiskey?" he says. "We got some." His eyes have turned open and mild again.

I pat his arm with an unsteady hand. "You're the only one in this town who'll do me a charitable turn, Chester," I say. "Miss Kitty warmed to me a little when I mentioned you."

Chester fetches the whiskey and a cup while the marshal waits with stoical patience. "Well, Miss Kitty, she's obliging," says Chester, pouring the whiskey.

I take a big swallow. "Matt, I only fought you cuz Chester told me to," I say. "He said I should shock you to earn your acceptance."

"Why, I did not, any sech thing," says Chester. "Mr. Dillon, he—"

"Never mind, Chester," the marshal says, opening the door. "Get some rest, Rush. Have your head on straight when we get back."

Chester closes the door behind them, and I watch through the window as Matt and his partner unhitch their horses. Chester's voice drifts faintly through the door. "He done storied you, Mr. Dillon," he says. I can't hear Matt's answer.

I lie down and link my fingers behind my head. The mattress ticking, stuffed with crackly straw and husks, is more comfortable than the floorboards with only my bedroll for padding. I'm done being tolerable with this town. They _will_ quit looking through me, and turning from me like I'm a shameful sight. I'm good-looking and well groomed, not a rough sort, and I wear fine suits and silk shirts and vests and ties. Since Dillon dresses like a cowpuncher, he oughta help Chester with the chores, not me. And the townsfolk _will_ pass the time of day with me, if I have to jolt them into talking.

Returning to the marshal's office from the Long Branch late that night, I see Matt and Chester ride in, and wonder why they didn't stable their horses at Grimmick's. Then I see Chester holding Buck's reins. Matt sways in the saddle, nearly resting on Buck's neck.

"Is Matt shot?" I say.

"He got hit through the side," says Chester. "And a bullet in the shoulder. We need help gettin' 'im up to Doc's."

"The robbers?" I say, walking beside Chester's horse.

"They're dead," says Chester. "Mr. Dillon shot one and me t'other. We got the bank money back in our saddlebags." He sounds sad and weary.

So I am in charge of Dodge, and Chester follows my lead and my orders, as Doc says Matt will be laid up at Doc's place a spell. Miss Kitty spends every day into the night nursing the marshal.

Chester bunks in the jail now. I would've let him keep sleeping in the office bed, but he moves on his own. I ask him to fix us breakfast, and he fries eggs and spuds in fatback. The eggs and spuds are crispy, the fatback burnt, and all of it greasy. He makes good coffee, though.

We're drinking a second cup to cut the grease when Moss Grimmick walks in. "Moss," says Chester.

"Chester. Rush," says Moss.

"What can I do you for?" I say.

"I don't know if anything," says Moss. "Didn't know what to do, so I come here. Fella's got a nice mustang down to the livery; won't pay for his keep. Man by the name of Jess Hammond. Every time I tell 'im to pay up, he says he will when he comes into some money. Says he's a gambler. It's been a fortnight since he rode into town, and he ain't paid one dime."

"You know whereabouts he does his playin'?" I say.

"All the saloons, from what I heard," says Moss. "Long Branch, usually. Be hard to give you a likeness, Rush. Hammond looks like most men. He starts his gambling early in the day; I know that. Like a real job."

"How much he owe ya?" I say.

"Three dollars, fifty cent," says Grimmick.

"You wanna come find 'im with me and Chester, Moss, I'll lighten his pockets and put the money in your hand direct," I say. Moss gives me a forceful nod, and we head to the Long Branch.

"That's him," says Moss, pointing, when we push through the batwings.

Wearing a brown skirt and white cotton blouse, suited I suppose for tending the marshal, Miss Kitty gives instructions to Sam at the bar. The clothing differs from her customary fine weaves, color and lace, yet I notice a purposeful vigor in her bearing that enlivens her face and enhances her beauty, whereas before she seemed at times a mite sulky.

I move to the table where Jess Hammond sits with two men at cards. I'm not a careful strider like Dillon, nor a swaggerer. I take my time walking, easy like. Moss stays by Chester, who stops a few paces behind me.

I step close to Hammond's chair, and wait until the men look up at me. Moss is right about Hammond's looks. I've seen his form and features so much in other men, his face escapes description.

His mouth twists in disdain when he sees me. I've seen that look too much in this town, and my hand itches to smack him a good one. Though I tend like the marshal to go a touch easy on the lawbreakers, these townsfolk are crawling up under my skin like pinworms. My dander rises hot, my heart thumping, and I feel the faint trembling that strengthens rather than weakens. I could punch Hammond's head clean off and enjoy it.

"You got nothin' else to do 'cept show off that badge," says Hammond, "Why don't you set and play a hand 'stead of standin' there like a dub."

"Moss," I say. Grimmick moves next to me.

"You owe Moss here three dollars and fifty cents livery board for your mustang, Jess," I say. My voice goes low and quiet when I'm mad. "Pay up. Now."

"I told him I was busted," Jess says. "I'll give 'im the money soon as I win it, so move your worthless hide outa my face."

"He ain't broke," says one of the players. "He just won twelve dollar offen me."

"Hand it over, Jess," I order.

"You got no authority far as I see it," Hammond sneers. "Marshal Dillon is gunshot bedrid at Doc's. You gotta lot a guts, standin' there playin' lawman in your fine getup."

"Chester," I say, and gesture at the bar.

"Come on, Moss," Chester says. Miss Kitty and Sam have gone quiet watching us, and Chester and Moss join them at the bar.

The other two men ease out of their chairs and back away. Jess tenses but keeps his seat. I know if I put all my anger behind the punch, I'll shatter his jaw and break his neck. I hold most of it in, and hit hard enough to stun him while I get Grimmick's money.

Hammond falls over backward in his chair, and I swiftly search his pockets, my fingers closing around a roll. I peel off four one-dollar bills and stuff the roll back in his pocket.

"You paid up today and tomorrow, too, Jess," I say. I grab his arms and jerk him upright. "You boys pick up his chair?" I say. One of the players quickly pick up the chair and set it behind Hammond's legs, and I push him down hard on the seat.

"From now on you pay Moss once a week, all you owe and don't be late," I say. "You miss another payment, he'll tell me, I'll look you up and hit you again." Jess nods, rubbing his jaw as he warily regards me.

"Rush," Miss Kitty calls. I move to the bar. "That deserves a drink on the house," she says. "Beer?"

"Thank you, Miss Kitty," I say. Her expressive eyes admire me, and I imagine she's sizing me up from a new angle. I'm liking her now as a woman. Dillon likes her too, and I relish the thrill of risking his displeasure.

"Here's your money, Moss," I say, handing him the bills. "Let me know if Jess holds out on you again. I'll see to it."

"Thanks," says Moss. "I will." He studies me a moment as though seeing me for the first time, then shakes my hand and leaves.

Chester and I walk with Miss Kitty to Doc's. "Don't you trouble Mr. Dillon none, Rush," says Chester as we climb the stairs. "Him on the mend and all. He's been through a lot."

Chester says the same thing whenever we visit Matt. Same words even.

"You always say that, Chester," I say. "I never once troubled Matt since he got shot."

Looking well despite two bullet wounds, Matt sat in bed. "I know Jess Hammond," he says, grinning a little and leaning back against the pillows when Chester told him what happened with Moss. "Jess is blustery, but he's easy to cow."

"Meaning," I say, "You come up here braggin' about nothin' at all, Rush."

"I didn't hear you braggin," says Matt.

"If Rush Acton does the job, it's all still fool's work to you," I say to Dillon.

"Nobody's makin' you wear that badge at gunpoint, Acton," says Matt.

"Matt, I was assigned to this post. I can't just ride out of Dodge any more than you could. Not if I want to keep my job."

"You could put in for a transfer," says Dillon.

I heave a sigh. "Alright," I say. "You refuse to accept me here, you _will_ take me _dead_ serious, if I have to rip this town apart to make you do it." The look I saw as somewhat mocking faded from Dillon's face. "You see," I say. "Already you quit jeering at me."

"Matt's not jeering at you," says Doc. "Now, don't you start makin' trouble and get him all het up, you understand?"

"I told 'im don't trouble Mr. Dillon on the way upstairs, Doc," says Chester, scowling at me. "He don't pay no heed."

"Shut up, Chester," I say.

"Well, you're jest the rudest Deputy U.S. Marshal I ever met," says Chester. "You're a disgrace to the badge."

"And you're an idiot," I say.

"Oh, leave Chester alone," says Miss Kitty. "He didn't do anything to you." I throw my arms around her, kiss her hard and let her go before she can push me off.

"Miss Kitty and I've been busy while you're layin' here, Marshal," I say, smiling at Matt.

"Don't pay him any mind, Matt," says Kitty. "You know I'm up here with you every minute I get."

"That's alright, Kitty," says Matt.

"Acton, if I could get out of this bed without passin' out, I'd chop you one for putting your hands on Kitty that way. You stay in this room one more second, I might try it anyway," the marshal threatened.

"Alright, easy," I say. "I'm leavin'."

I scarce reach the marshal's office when a child whose mother boards at Ma Smalley's shows with a note for me from Ma. "Ma said please come straightaway," says little Eddie.

"You wait here while I read Ma's note," I say. Eddie jumps on the hitching rail and commences acrobatics like he's in the circus.

"Get down or you'll bust your head," I say, reading Ma's book-learned cursive. Eddie cares nothing for me, and keeps twirling round the rail. Not even the younguns in this town respect me.

I pick him up off the rail and set him on his feet. "You run tell Ma I'll be by in a spell," I say. "Tell her I need to see Miss Kitty and Miss Jade Hunt at the Long Branch first. Can you remember that?" Eddie nods and frowns up at me, his big round eyes sparking in the sun.

"Go on then," I say. "Off with you."

"You got any money?" he demands.

I laugh, pull a nickel from my pocket, and hand it to him. "Smart boy," I say. "You don't let no man order you 'less you get paid." He snatches the nickel from my fingers and runs off to give Ma my message.

Saloon gal Jade Hunt is named after the gemstone, for her bewitching green eyes. She has a soft womanly form and sultry face which make men want her. Arriving before noon, I find the Long Branch empty except for Miss Kitty standing at the end of the bar, Sam, and Jade leaning on the bar talking to him.

I move to Miss Kitty and tip my hat. "Miss Kitty," I say. "I'd expect you'd still be at Doc's. Tired of tending Matt, are you?"

"I have to show my face here once in a while," Kitty says. "Matt understands." She's shed her plain nursing garments, and wears a blue silk blouse and matching skirt.

"I need to talk to you and Jade," I say. "Can I buy you two a drink?"

"Drinks are on the house if it's a law matter," says Miss Kitty.

"Well, at least you acknowledge I'm a lawman," I say.

She shrugs. "You're wearin' a badge.

"Jade. Come talk to Rush.

"Can we get three beers, Sam?" Kitty says.

Jade turns, leans back on the bar and fixes her green eyes on me, then steps slowly toward me, swaying her hips. She moves closer until her bosom almost touches my chest.

"Jade," I say, touching my hat brim. "Ma Smalley sent me a note about you and Rufus Mangrove. "Fella what owns the Back Street Saloon. He was your beau, right?"

"Way I see it, Rufus is still mine." She has a low satiny voice.

"Ma says Mangrove broke it off with you and you're hounding him," I say. "She wants either you or Rufus to move out of her place, or both of you. She wants me to ask you to move."

Jade feigns a pout. "Do I have to?"

"I've no right to force you," I say. "You houndin' Mangrove from love, are you?"

"I don't know anything about love, honey," she says. "I'm real sweet on him, though. I want him."

"I can't imagine why," I say. I've seen Mangrove around town. He looks like a wolf."

"Some men just creep up inside you and you can't pull 'em out," Jade says. She and Miss Kitty look at each other and laugh.

"He's a dog for markin' you," I say. "He cast his spell on your heart so you can't shake 'im loose."

"That's it exact," says Jade, breathy with excitement, her face shiny aglow. She looks a bit mad, her eyes wide and hot. I glance at the part of her bosom rising and falling with her breathing and showing above the low-cut costume.

"You want I should throw Rufe-rufe Doggrove out of Ma's place so you can keep your room there, honey?" I say.

"Sounds like a good idea, Jade," says Miss Kitty. "It'll serve Mangrove right. He captured your heart so he could break it. I know the breed." Kitty takes a big swallow of beer and gulps it down without a cough or shoulder hitch. I watch her admiringly. She's some woman.

"Would you do that for me, Rush?" says Jade. "I like my little room at Ma's. Her place is clean and pleasing, and she's a good cook. And I like Ma. She'd never want you to ask me to leave, only Rufus charmed her into mama feelings for him."

"Wanna come so you can watch me kick him out?" I say. "You can slap his face some if you get the hankerin'. I won't let 'im hit you."

"Let me run upstairs and change out of my outfit?" says Jade.

Ma Smalley is fixing rabbit fricassee for lunch when we walk through the parlor and dining room into the kitchen. "Hello, Ma," I say, taking off my hat.

"Deputy Rush," says Ma. "My, you were a time getting here. You'll have lunch before you pack your things, Jade?"

"Oh, please don't make me leave, Ma," says Jade. "Rush says he'll kick Rufus out."

Ma frowns. "Why would you do that, Deputy," she says. "Jade's the one hounding Rufus, not the other way."

"He made Jade latch onto him and she can't let go," I say. "You'll let her keep boarding here if he leaves, won't you, Ma?"

"Well, I . . . ." Looking worried and disapproving, Ma rubs her hands on a towel.

"Oh, _thank_ you," says Jade, hugging Ma. "You _are_ sweet."

"Rufus in?" I say.

"He's in his room," says Ma. "Rufus said he's not going to the saloon today. He wants to make sure Jade leaves."

"Well, he's in for a surprise," I say.

"Come on, honey," I say to Jade.

 _"Come in,"_ Rufus calls in answer to my knock. He jumps up when he sees Jade. "She leavin'?" he says.

"Nope. You are," I say. "I cleared it with Ma."

"That ain't _fair_ ," says Rufus. "I did _nothing_ to her. She won't leave me alone!"

"Calm down, darling," says Jade. "We can still see each other."

"I don't wanna see you. Not anymore. How many durn ways can I _tell_ you!" says Rufus.

"You don't want to see Jade anymore, get out of town," I say.

"You cold-blood dirty ass," Rufus says to me. "All you're thinkin' about is takin' her."

"You can eat lunch if you want," I calmly answer. "Then get out."

"Forget the blasted lunch," he says. He opens a dresser drawer and starts pulling out his clothes. "I'll bunk in my saloon," says Rufus. "Git on outa here so I can pack." He slams and locks the door behind us.

"Show me your room, Jade," I order.

"Do we dare?" she whispers. "All this'll be for nothing if Ma finds out, 'cause she'll throw me out sure. She'll wonder what we're doing back here after Rufus leaves."

I wrap my arms around her and kiss her. "We'll do it fast," I say.

"That was wrong, Rush," says Matt, when I visit him at Doc's and tell him about Rufus and Jade. "Ma explained the situation to me before the shooting laid me up. You should've made Jade move like Ma asked you to at first, and let Mangrove stay."

"Sure don't sound fair to me," says Doc.

"You would take Mangrove's side, Matt," I say. "It's a little like you and Miss Kitty, isn't it. Only you haven't broken it off with her, and she's not hounding you. I guess I can calculate why."

"Leave Kitty out of this," says Matt.

"She agreed with me throwin' Rufus out, and she and Jade laughed about it," I say. Matt looked at me a moment, then turned his gaze straight ahead without answering.

"Rush, you start troublin' Matt, you're gonna have to leave," says Doc.

"That's alright, Doc," says the marshal. "When I'm up and about in a few days, Rush won't be doin' anything but chorin'."

"I ain't doin no blasted chorin'," I say. "That's Chester's job."

"That's enough," Doc says. "You go on out of here now and let Matt rest."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The bullet wounds in Matt's shoulder and side swell and redden with infection, fevering him. Doc says there's no telling when the marshal will heal enough to get out of bed, let alone pin on the badge. After the incident with the storekeeper Jonas and the man called Ness, I hope the townsfolk stand in awe of me if they refuse to esteem me, and I want an assent at the least from the marshal.

Ness is a sneaking drifter who keeps to himself. Word has it that he's a thief. When Ness creeps into Jonas' store, I'm looking at the stock of silk ties while Jonas fills our provision order, although buying the supplies is Chester's job. He's passing a lot of time at Doc's since Matt caught infection, so I understand.

Jonas goes into the back room, and Ness shifts his cagey, belligerent eyes to me. I turn my back without looking at him and hold two ties against my vest, pretending to match the colors.

Ness tips by me, and I watch him through my eye tail. Like a thin, long-fingered shadow, he slides behind the counter, eases open the cash drawer, pulls out a stack of bills, stuffs it in his pocket, and glides by me to the door.

Carrying a big wooden box, Jonas comes out of the back room, and I wait until he sets the box on the counter.

"Hold it," I say, not drawing my gun.

"Hold what," says Jonas, adjusting his spectacles. He's one of the few folks I like in this town, as he treated me the same as everyone else from first greeting.

Ness freezes in the doorway, then looks cautiously back over his shoulder. He sags in relief when he sees my gun holstered, then spins to face me, his eyes flashing mad. "How dare you play with me, you mongrel," he says.

"Shut up," I say.

"What's going on," says Jonas.

"This worm just stole a stack of bills from your cash drawer, Mr. Jonas."

Ness tenses up and turns to run for it. He's about my height, wiry while I'm muscled, and I calculate he can outrun me. I pull my gun and shoot over his head. He yells, leaps off the floor and falls. I laugh.

"Goldurn you," Ness growls, jumping up. "Two can play at that game. I'll make you dance proper."

He draws his gun. As I loathe shooting a man, and felt like some sport as well, I risk a trick I practiced with a friend in San Antone. I draw, aim for Ness' gun barrel, and squeeze the trigger. The bullet rips the gun out of his hand, propelling it through the door into the street. _"Oww!"_ Ness howls, clutching his hand. I holster my gun and laugh, stomping my boots.

"Good gracious," says Jonas.

His face twisted in a snarl, Ness lunges at me. I swing my fist, knocking him on his back, then jump on top of him, plunging my hand in his pocket and pulling out the bills. Calls to mind the gambler who owed old Grimmick, only this is more fun.

I hold the money above my head, and Jonas hurries over and takes it. "Thank you," he says.

"Sure," I say.

Ness is friskier than the gambler was, wriggling like a snake as I sit on him. I backhand him. "Be still or I'll choke your gullet," I say.

He purses his mouth to spit, and I smack him. He reaches for my gun, and I grab his hand, bending the fingers back. Jonas cranes his neck from behind the counter, watching us intently.

Ness shrinks against the floorboards like a skinny paper lantern losing its air, and I climb off him, rising. "Get up," I order. "You're goin' to jail."

We move out the door and I pick up his gun, putting it in my belt. "Why'd you steal from an honest hardworking storekeeper like Mr. Jonas," I scold as we walk. "You wanna take up banditry, rob those indolent rich fellas at the bank."

When I tell Matt, he sighs and shakes his head. Miss Kitty sits on the bed, Doc sits in a chair by the bedside, and Chester leans against the wall. Doc iced out Matt's fever, and the marshal's face is pale and drawn. "The Service doesn't pay you to play tricks, Rush," Matt says. "You could've got yourself or Ness killed. Situation like that, just take the man's gun and arrest him."

Doc rises from his chair. "Now, don't you start in on Matt," he warns me.

Dillon's words sting, and I'm more shamed than mad. I want to call him a conceited lawdog, but he's bedrid from the infection and I'm not cruel.

"You can't make people approve of you," Matt says. "You'll have an easier time if you understand that."

"You mean either resign myself to folks in this town looking down their noses at me, or looking through me like I'm not there," I say. "Since you don't like me, it's well and good that no one in Dodge likes me."

"It's got nothing to do with whether or not I like you," Matt says. "I won't pretend I approve of the way you do things when I don't."

"So you expect me to reverence the ground you walk on, like Chester does," I say. I glare at Chester, who glowers back at me.

"Why don't you help yourself to Doc's laudanum, Rush," Chester says. "You need it worse'n any woman in Dodge."

Miss Kitty snickers, which makes me more riled at Chester. I know the marshal's too weak to get out of bed, and if I smack his friend, Matt can't do anything about it. I move close to Chester, who pushes away from the wall, straightening up.

"Rush, don't you dare hit Chester," Miss Kitty says in her tough voice.

"You just better watch your tongue, Chester," I say.

"Can't you talk to anyone without stirrin' up trouble, Acton?" says Doc.

"Oh, I'm jest shakin' in my boots," says Chester.

"You wait until I get you in the marshal's office alone tonight," I say. I'm only blustering, and I think Chester knows it, as he doesn't look at all distressed.

"You're not paid to fight Chester, either, Rush," says Matt.

"No cause to worry none, Mr. Dillon," says Chester, his eyes fixed on mine. "He's jest spewin' out air. If he tries fightin', I'll wrap that fancy tie around his neck."

"You cain't fight me worth nothin'," I say. "I can tell by the look of you."

"Yeah, well . . . ." Chester limps out of the room.

"I'll be back, Matt," says Miss Kitty. She strokes Dillon's hair, then stands, her eyes shooting daggers at me, and follows Chester.

"You seem to know a lot about what I'm not paid to do, Matt," I say. "I know I'm not paid to mimic you and trot at your heels like a sniveling dog. If you and this town set your face to shun me, I'll dynamite all of Dodge City if I have to, and I won't leave even then. I'll spit on the ruins."

"What in thunder are you talkin' about, Acton?" says Doc. "No one's shunning you. Folks aren't thinking about you, in case you didn't know it. You're so busy trying to be the important man around town."

"Some doctor you are," I say. "Do you shame everyone who's not in your special set? Well, don't fret, Doc Galen. I won't expect an invitation to your next society tea party."

Doc stares up at me like I'm addled, then shakes his head, pats Dillon's shoulder, and joins Chester and Miss Kitty in the other room. Doc appears again in the doorway an instant later. "Come out of this room," he orders me. "You're not to be in here by yourself with Matt."

"Alright, I'm goin'," I say. "Don't get your pantalets in a twist."

"You watch your foul mouth, or I'll push you down those stairs," Doc snaps.

"I believe you," I say. "I best keep an eye on my back."

"You can take some laudanum with you for your nerves if you want," says Chester, as I open the door to leave.

"Why don't you drink the whole bottle, lackey," I say. "Poison yourself to death."

Doc tracks me to the door, and I hurry out and down the stairs. I don't hear the door close, and my back starts itching as I imagine him kicking me down the steps or throwing something at my back. I glance over my shoulder up the flight. Doc stands on the landing watching me, and I run down the remaining stairs.

I need whiskey, so I head for the Long Branch. Jade is at the bar, and smiles when she sees me. "Hello, honey," I say, and kiss her. "You forget about Rufus Mangrove yet? We can go up to a room if you need some more lovin' to get him outa your head. You want a whiskey?"

"Alright," she says.

"Two whiskeys, Sam," I say.

"Barkeep's supposed to listen to your troubles as you drink, Sam," I say. "That's part of your job."

"If you talk, I'll hear you," Sam says.

"Yeah, but you don't want to hear me," I say. "You won't look at me. I bet you don't know how I look."

Sam glances at me, then turns his gaze away. "And I bet you look at yourself in the glass enough for both of us," he says, with no hint of a grin.

I temper of a sudden, and grab his vest in both fists without thinking on it. "I ain't takin' no guff off no barkeep," I say, low and quiet. "I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal in this town, and you best remember that." Sam jerks at my wrists, and I clutch his vest tighter.

"Rush, let go," says Jade. "You'll tear Sam's vest."

"You want it that much, you can have it," says Sam, his face stolid. He'd make a good poker player.

I smile a little in spite of myself, and let go of him. "You smart off quite a bit for a bartender, don't you," I say.

"No more than I need to," he says, straightening his vest. He's not cowed by me in the slightest.

I gulp my whiskey. "Let's go upstairs," I say to Jade.

A frown wrinkles her smooth dark brows. "No," she says.

"Why not?"

"You order me too much," she says. "And I don't like how you treated Sam."

"That's no matter, Jade," Sam says.

"Rufus never ordered me around," Jade says.

"He's weak-kneed," I say. "And I thought you forgot about him."

"I didn't say that," says Jade, as Miss Kitty walks through the batwings. "I could never forget dear Rufus. I want him so much right now I could die. I gotta go to him," says Jade.

"Jade, wait," I say, taking hold of her silky soft, bare shoulders. "You best leave Mangrove alone," I say. "He wants nothing more to do with you. He might hurt you if you show up at his saloon. He's a fool for not wanting you," I say, stroking Jade's shoulders as Miss Kitty approaches us. "If he hurts you, Jade," I say, "I could hurt him real bad. Much as I want you for my girl, when I think of Mangrove shutting you out, I want to break his neck, and I'm not a man likes killing."

"Rush is right, Jade," says Miss Kitty. "You better stay away from Rufus, or he might hurt you bad. You hounded him so he can't stand the sight of you. I'm not sayin' you're to blame. He made you love 'im, then threw you aside. He's not worth it."

"I know. He's dung," Jade says huskily. "No one wants to touch dung, right? But I do. I hate Rufus, and I love him. I _must_ make him love me again."

Jade pulls away from me and tries to run for the batwings, and I take her in my arms. "Rush, _please_ ," she says, struggling.

"Mangrove never loved you, honey," I say. "And you can't walk on the back street in your costume. You could be attacked."

Kitty touched her palm to Jade's face. _"He_ might attack you if you show up at his saloon, Jade," she says urgently. _"Rufus_ might."

"Rufus wouldn't do that to me," Jade says.

Kitty looks into my eyes. "Give her some loving, Rush," Miss Kitty says. "You're ten times more good-lookin' than Mangrove, and he can't compare to you as a man."

Miss Kitty's eyes seem at that moment like the enchanting, powerful eyes of a goddess. I feel a heightened awareness of the strength I pride myself on, and an invigorating warmth surges through me. I tenderly kiss Jade, and she clings to me. I pick her up and head for the stairs, and as I carry her, I look back at Miss Kitty, drawing her power into myself.

I dream while awake, upright in my boots. Wandering the streets, I gaze at images of Jade in my head as I give her loving, and images of Miss Kitty's beautiful blue eyes looking into my dark ones.

My boot slips off the walkway, I stumble over the end of a horse trough and splash in face down. Then I open my eyes, and I'm lying on my back on the walk, with a lot of folks gathered round. Doc's face is close to mine, his hands on my shoulders.

I cough hard, choking, and Doc pulls me by my shoulders so I sit up, moves behind me, and pushes my back until my forehead almost touches my legs. I heave and gag up water on my pants, and water streams through my nose.

"I musta knocked myself out," I gasp.

Doc's small strong fingers probe my neck, then he puts his hands against my temples, moving my head from side to side. "That hurt any?" he asks.

"No," I say.

Doc moves in front of me and peers at my forehead. "What about your head," he says. "You'll have a bump there."

"It's nothing," I say. My head feeling muddled, I scan the crowd surrounding us. "Where's Chester," I say, not knowing why I say it. If Dillon tripped over a horse trough and almost drowned, I doubted he ask for Chester. Not that Matt Dillon ever is befogged about anything, and he surely never is clumsy enough to fall into a horse trough and knock himself out.

"Chester's visiting Matt at my office," Doc says.

"I'd a pulled you out the trough, Deputy," a cowboy says. "Only Doc got to you before me. He dragged you on outa there fast before anyone could help 'im, and put his hands together and pumped on your chest, and water spouted out your mouth and nose."

I look at Doc still looking at me. "How you managed that, I can't imagine," he says. "There're easier ways to take a bath if that's what you wanted."

As my head clears, shame sweeps through me like fever. I look at my hat floating on the water. "My gun won't shoot right now," I say, and quickly stand up. The folks drift away when they see I'm alright. "Thanks, Doc," I say.

Doc nods soberly as though I've said something of consequence, and walks on his way. I calculate Doc would save anyone's life, and maybe that cowpoke would, too. Dodge won't accept me because the doctor rescued me from drowning in a trough. Follks will think me a fool, more likely. I am beholden to Doc, though. I figure after all he didn't think on pushing me down the stairs when he kicked me out of his office.

The thief who stole from Jonas' cash drawer spends three days in jail, then I release him, give him his gun and order him to leave Dodge. When Ness protests he has no horse, I escort him to the stage, paying for his trip out of the marshal's till. "Get off wherever you want," I tell him. "Just don't come back here."

An outlaw wanted dead or alive takes Ness' place in the jail. At the Long Branch passing the time with Jade, I recollect Gore Polk's hard features and glittering eyes from the circular, draw my gun, and arrest him.

"I'm gonna kill you," Polk growls as we head for the jail. I soon realize he's not just growling from anger. Polk has a voice like a mean dog snarling, and he's always riled.

He's not as tall as me, nor as big. I took his gun, a wicked-looking blade, and two sets of brass knuckles from him. This dog has no teeth or claws.

"You go loco on me, I'll blow your head off," I say. "Poster says you're wanted alive _or_ dead. That means I can shoot you whenever I want to, and the State'll thank me."

"Shoot me now so's I ain't gotta hang," says Polk. "Get it over with." I think he means it.

"I don't like shooting men, Polk," I say. "Not even men who act like vicious animals. You cross me, though, I won't hesitate."

"You best shoot me, now," he says, "cuz I'll kill you if you don't."

Reading one of his frontier penny books, Chester lays on the bed in the marshal's office.

"We got a mean one, Chester," I say, as I walk Polk through the doorway at gunpoint. "He's wanted dead or alive."

Holding his book, Chester sits up and looks at Polk. "I'm gonna kill you," Polk growls at Chester.

His eyes a bit wider than usual, Chester looks at me, and I smack Polk's head. _"Roof,"_ says Polk. I tense, waiting for him to lunge at me, but he doesn't. He's not as dumb as he sounds.

Chester takes the jail key from its peg on the wall, unlocks the door to the near cell, and opens it wide. Looking at Chester, Polk's tight mouth twists, and he pauses in front of the cell. _"Hah,"_ he says at Chester.

I shove Polk hard, and he stumbles inside and falls on the bunk. Chester closes the cell door, and turns the key in the lock. "You mock up your face like that again, I'll break it," I say. "And don't say "Hah" no more."

"I'm gonna kill you both," says Polk.

When I pondered later on how Polk got his hands on me, I blamed Rufus Mangrove, the man Jade couldn't stop wanting any more than a drunk can let loose of a whiskey bottle. Miss Kitty said Jade decided on a shotgun wedding with Rufus, only she used a derringer.

"She walked down the back street in her Long Branch outfit," Kitty told me. "You warned her what might happen to her if she went dressed like that. Jade said a drover grabbed her, and she was already so mad at Rufus, she pulled the derringer out of her bosom and pounded the drover with the end of the gun barrel. He called her a dirty harlot and ran off, so she threw a rock at his head. Hit 'im square on, too," Kitty smiled.

"Jade should've killed 'im," I said.

"Yeah," said Kitty. "But she didn't wanna go to prison. Anyway, she told Mangrove she'd kill 'im if he didn't marry her, and he said he'd been a fool to throw away a wildcat like Jade; if she was spirited enough to hold a gun on him, he had to have her. So they went direct to the courthouse and married. She quit here and went to work with Rufus at the Back Street Saloon."

I think about Miss Kitty since I lost Jade. I want Kitty, but know she's no easy take like the saloon gal Frannie.

Chester has gone to see the marshal at Doc's, and I wonder if I should fetch Doc to take a look at Polk. He's lain unmoving on his back all day with his eyes closed, seemingly in a deep sleep, not waking to eat or drink.

 _"Polk,"_ I say. He doesn't stir. My gut tells me he's faking it, though I don't know what trick he's playing. I'm uneasy with Doc getting close to examine him.

Miss Kitty's blue eyes fill my mind, and I lean back against the cell bars, trying to clear my mind and think what to do about Polk. I want direction from Dillon, yet he'd never seek advice from me if I lay convalescing abed instead of him. Matt would know straightaway what to do.

I sigh and shut my eyes a moment, seeing Kitty's face behind my lids. I think later that I wouldn't have acted such a fool if Rufus hadn't broken it off with Jade to begin with. I'd not have entangled myself with her, which left me weak and craving Kitty when Jade went back to Mangrove. It's his fault, the worm.

I don't sense Polk sneak up behind me. His belt is of a sudden tight around my neck, and the back of my head slams against the bars. My fingers scrabble at the belt as he squeezes tighter. No bigger than most men, Polk is stronger than his size. I feel his iron grip through the leather as I choke, struggling wildly.

My vision dims as I lose strength, and I hear the front door open and close as though from far away. Chester's limping gait on the floorboards reaches my ears; he shadows the doorway, then disappears.

"I'm gonna kill 'im," Polk growls, his grip on the belt loosening slightly in his distraction.

My vision clears as I gasp in a chestful of air through my burning throat, and slip two fingers of my right hand under the belt. Polk yanks the belt tight, and my fingers dig into my skin.

Chester rushes through the doorway with a shotgun, thumbs back the hammer, and presses the barrel against Polk's ribs under his arm. _"Turn 'im loose,"_ Chester says.

I shift my eyes to the side. Chester's brown eyes look nearly black and cold to their depths.

Polk says, "Go on and shoo—" The shot cracks out, and the belt falls from my neck. I hear Polk hit the floor.

My legs fold and I slide down against the bars and sit on the floor, holding my neck and coughing. Chester helps me to a chair at the table. "I'll get you some whiskey," he says.

"He dead?" I rasp. My throat feels raw, and my neck burns.

"I think he is," says Chester, filling a coffee cup with whiskey to the brim. "I gotta check though afore I go for the undertaker to bring his wagon."

Chester takes the jail key from its peg, and I hear him unlocking the door. I gulp the whiskey, and squeeze my eyes shut as it scalds my ravaged throat on the way down. "He's dead," says Chester from the jail.

He hangs up the key, limps to the door and puts on his hat. I fill my mouth with whiskey and gulp again. As it burns through my chest and gut, the pain in my neck and throat dissolve and my nerves relax.

"Thanks, Chester," I say. He nods. I slurp from the cup, and a lightness swirls through my head. "You got a way," I say hoarsely, slurring a little. Chester waits patiently by the door to hear me out.

Another big swallow of whiskey. Chester's eyes have returned to normal, mild and guileless. "Yep," I say. "A way."

"I best get to the undertaker's," Chester says.

"You don't want no whiskey after what happened?" I say.

"I don't need none."

"That's what I mean," I say. "I'd need whiskey if I was the one shot Polk and you were the one bein' strangled."

Chester looks troubled and confused. He doesn't understand what I'm getting at. "Fellers choked me up once through the bars," he says. "Looks like Polk done you a lot worse'n what them men done to me."

I drained the cup, "Thing is," I say, "I think you'd save me if I was anyone else. I know Doc would. And that cowboy who was by the horse trough when I fell in. But I'm much obliged to you, Chester," I say, feeling a tightness in my throat that has nothing to do with the strangling. I hold my mouth steady and blink hard. "Much obliged," I repeat, with no quivers this time.

I was once on a riverboat in choppy water. The room feels like that boat, swaying.

"I gotta go," says Chester. "You best lay down a spell."

I blink at him, feeling light yet weak and awkward. He moves to the table, and helps me to the bed. "At least you folks don't wanna kill me," I say. "I reckon times a man must content himself with that, Chester."

Chester lifts my legs onto the bed and covers me. "Mr. Dillon's comin' back, today," he says looking down at me. "Soon, I expect. Nothin' to worry on."

"Not for you," I say. "You're too good to worry. Must be nice." Chester gives me a benign look, pats my shoulder and leaves. I sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Matt had grown thin while confined to bed at Doc's, and walked slower than usual to the marshal's office. "You should oughter wear a sling for your shoulder, Mr. Dillon, like Doc told you," said Chester, walking beside Matt.

"Doc said that because people shot in the shoulder wear a sling," said Matt. "The wound's most healed; it won't mend any faster with my arm tied up. The hole in my side was a lot worse, and Doc didn't say anything about puttin' my leg in a sling."

Unable to follow the drift of Matt's answer, Chester let it go. "Rush'll maybe wake afore too long," he said. "He slept through Polk's body bein' carried out, and me scrubbin' the blood off the jail floor. Didn't stir at all."

"I wanna talk to Rush about this letter from headquarters," said Matt. "I had nothin' to do but think layin' abed at Doc's. Rush and I may not see eye to eye, and he can be insolent, but he gets the job done."

"He don't bother me much," said Chester. "It eases me, he didn't die from that throttlin' Polk give him."

Rush still slept when they reached the office. Matt looked down at him a moment, then lay a hand on his shoulder. Rush's eyes slitted open. "Matt," he said huskily, and coughed.

"How's the gullet," said Matt, smiling a little.

"Sore." Rush looked at the marshal's hand on his shoulder, then his dark eyes clouded in suspicion and he frowned quizzically at Matt. "Why're you actin' neighborly of a sudden," said Rush. Chester approached with a dipper of water, and the deputy sat up. "Thanks," he said, and drank thirstily.

Matt sat on the end of the bed, and Chester sat at the table. "I got a letter from headquarters, Rush," said Matt.

"I know," said Rush. "I got one, too. I requested the transfer. Fort Worth is good as anywhere for reassignment. I'm ridin' out soon's I pack up my gear, Matt. You wanted to get shet of me from the start, so you're gettin' your wish."

"Well, you bluster fierce, Rush," said Matt. "But you ran the town and kept order while I was laid up. I was hopin' you might change your mind. Stay here in Dodge."

"I don't understand," said Rush. "Why're you takin' kindly to me now?"

"I figure if Chester saved your life, you must be worth havin' around," said Matt.

"That's what Chester meant by doin' something shocking to win your acceptance," said Rush. He rubbed a brown hand through his curling dark hair. "I was thinkin' a gunfight or somewhat, not most getting killed making a fool of myself."

Matt frowned and looked at Chester. "I don't know where Chester came up with that," said the marshal.

"I calculated it for truth at the time, Mr. Dillon," said Chester defensively.

"I pondered on whether to stay in Dodge after I got the transfer letter to Fort Worth," said Rush. "But I'm leaving, Matt. Howsoever I know this town would respect me now you take to me. If Dodge shunned me, I'd burn it to the ground before I let 'em run me outa town. I'd make folks take notice of me, then I'd drop my pants in their faces, throw the badge in the dirt and let water on it. No how I'd let 'em send _me_ to Coventry." Rush was feeling het up, the heat rising through his chest from a tight knot in his belly.

Though he couldn't make sense of the talk, Chester leaned forward in his chair, raptly listening to the deputy's harangue.

The marshal looked at Rush like he'd gone lunatic. "Send you to _Coventry,"_ said Matt, smiling.

"You can't deny this town did it before," said Rush. "To a speculator. The man was found on the prairie crushed by a tree branch."

"I recollect it," said Chester. "No one said naught to him, nor to ourselves when he was around, so as he'd leave town. Not one body give him a look."

"Rush," said Matt. "That man was a cheat and a murderer. No one saw him do it, so he was acquitted. The only way to get his carcass out of Dodge was to ignore him. And the town did that to a man just one time."

"Sounds mighty hard, no matter," said Rush. "A hanging by mob vote'd be more of a mercy, seems to me."

"They wouldn't have shunned you that way, Rush," said Matt. "They're like other people. You meet a friend or two by chance in any town if you're lucky, and the rest of 'em might say howdy on a sunny day. The only men I trust in Dodge are Chester and Doc. I'm not so sure with you yet, but I could sure use your help."

"I wouldn't be much use to you now," said Rush. "on account of the pretty blue eyes of a woman. I'm guessin' her heart is yours, so I can't stay."

"Kitty?" said Matt.

Rush nodded, sighing. "I wish I could see her just once more."

"Why don't ya," said Matt.

Watching the men and gals, Kitty stood at the end of the bar. Rush moved to her and took off his hat. "Miss Kitty," he said.

"Hello, Rush," said Kitty.

"I come to say good-bye," said Rush. "I'm taking a post in Fort Worth."

"Oh," said Kitty. "Well, good luck."

"Thanks. Miss Kitty, Matt said I could say good-bye to you," said Rush.

Gazing into his eyes, Kitty understood. She'd seen the look many times. She touched a hand to each of his cheeks and kissed him. "Good-bye, Rush," she said.

"Bye, Miss Kitty." He put on his hat, and Kitty watched him walk slowly across the Long Branch and through the batwings. He wanted to glance back at her, but forced himself to look ahead. Rush mounted his horse and rode down Front Street, out of Dodge and onto the prairie.


End file.
